War gardens are, of course, a new idea; and city, school and com- 
munity gardens are looked upon in most localities as a recent develop- 
ment. But here, at the National Cash Register Company, just out- 
side of Dayton, Ohio, is a community garden twenty-four years old. 
In the Industrial Hall of Education pictures are shown of the naughty 
and dirty little boys of twenty years ago, the wretched houses, the 
disorder and dilapidation of the neighborhood. Then come charming 
pictures of busy youngsters digging and hoeing and occasionally eating 
their crops, of pretty houses set in tiny, flowery gardens, and a neigh- 
borhood so neat and pleasant that the change seems incredible. 
And most of this has come about through the making and tending 
of gardens. The boys who were naughty and dirty are successful men 
now. They were wisely and kindly directed to shoulder their own 
responsibilities. They were amused and entertained while at it; and 
whereas it is to be hoped they are not too completely reformed char- 
acters, they at least are characters and not little hoodlums. 
We who are a little discouraged over newly organized community 
gardens and the vague ways of still disorganized community gar- 
deners, may draw much encouragement from the complete success of 
this well-tried plan. 
These gardens are only one of the welfare movements started by 
Mr. John H. Patterson, president of the company, to increase the 
usefulness and happiness of his thousands of employees. Most in- 
teresting is his attitude toward the really great things he has accom- 
plished: that all these added comforts and adornments pay; that 
they are not philanthropies, but investments; that contentment and 
well-being in its employees is a company's best asset. 
We might take that to heart in our efforts to increase practical 
£, Cf Mening by an unenlightened public who plant eagerly but tend 
languidly. Perhaps if both parties to the plan regarded it as a busi- 
ness proposition enthusiasm would wax instead of wane during the 
summer months. A bumper crop would clinch it, but never was 
bumper crop the result of a summer of indifference. K. L. B. 
"The mellow year is hastening to its close; 
The little birds have almost sung their last, 
Their small notes twitter in the dreary blast — 
That shrill-piped harbinger of early snows; 
The patient beauty of the scentless Rose, 
Oft with the morn's hoar crystal quaintly glass'd 
Hangs a pale mourner for the summer past, 
And makes a little summer where it grows." 
— Hartley Coleridge. 
